Welcome to the Playgirl Mansion!
by TheVampireLucinda
Summary: One of the WWE tour buses breaks down in the middle of no where, and the guys and girls are forced to spend a few days at one of the most unique places on Earth... Many characters, some slashiness later, but nothing too bad. Mostly just silliness.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Welcome to the Playgirl Mansion!

**Characters:** Many. And a few Ocs, only because...well, because we needed Bunnies! And a female Hugh Hefner. XP

**Disclaimer:** Weirdness. Just..weirdness.

**Summary:** I don't even really know what to say about this one...I was sick, and so I went to chill out—literally!—by watching a movie. So, on campus, "The House Bunny" was playing. I watched it with mild interest, and then, as I'm writing my paper the next day, I think, 'Wouldn't it be awesome to have a Playboy mansion...only full of wrestlers?!' And, thus, this was story was born. Oi! I intend for it to be very short, and not at all serious...And OMG, doing research was...I've never actually read Playboy or Playgirl... *blush* Again, this is another weird result of a fever. Anyway, onto the story~!

* * *

Every mile the tour bus managed to pass without breaking down brought a simultaneous sigh of relief and groan of despair from the WWE Superstars trapped on board.

"Dammit, Vince, will you just tell the man to pull over?!" Paul, otherwise known as Triple H, yelled up to the Chairman of the WWE, whose face was set in a hard scowl.

"She'll make it home," was Mr. McMahon's short answer, referring to the bus. There was another group groan. The bus had needed repairs for _years_, and, simply put, that just wasn't money Vince was willing to spend. So, now, here they were, watching the nearly-barren landscape pass them by as black smoke literally poured from the exhaust pipe. Even their ever-faithful driver was sweating, but he dared not say a word to the irate Vince. He valued his job far too much.

"Mark, make him stop the bus!" Glen groaned as he sat back in his chair, folding his arms angrily. "I want to get home in one piece!" The man known as the Undertaker turned to him with an incredulous expression.

"What the hell do you want _me_ to do?" he asked, shaking his head. "If Vince won't listen to Helmsley, his own son-in-law, what makes you think he'll listen to me?"

Glen shrugged. "I don't know...You're more threatening, maybe?" he said sarcastically, earning himself an angry glance from both the Game and the Deadman.

Hunter sat down heavily in his seat, arms folded across his chest. "We're not going to make it another mile," he mumbled. "And then we're going to get stranded in the middle of nowhere and miss our rides home!"

Shawn Michaels gave his friend a pat on the shoulder, although he himself wasn't very optimistic either. "Hey...don't worry. Whatever happens, it'll work out. We'll get home...eventually...and then you'll get to see Steph and the girls, and I'll get to see Becca and the kids."

"Well ain't that sweet!" Edge taunted from a seat behind them. "So sweet I'm going to throw up!"

Shawn rolled his eyes and, in one motion, pushed his chair back as far as it could go, squashing Adam's legs in the process. He looked up and saw Randy, who was sitting next to Edge, barely holding back laughter as Adam screeched in pain.

"Hey! Shut up over there!" Beth Phoenix yelled, startling her seat-partner Santino Marella out of his nap. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

"Not with you yelling," Maria muttered, instantly regretting it when she received a dirty look from the Glamazon.

"Shut up, bitch," Beth said shortly, which in turn got her a dirty look from Mickie James, before turning her attention back to Adam, who was now begging Shawn to pull his chair back up. "Edge, shut the hell up!"

"Tell him to get off me!" Adam groaned, trying now to pry his legs free. "His fat ass is going to paralyze me!"

"Fat?!" Shawn gasped, blue eyes going wide with shock. He sat up—luckily for Edge bringing his chair up with him—and stood over Adam looking furious. "Did you just call me...fat?"

Hunter sighed. "You're fucked now," he whispered to the Rated-R Superstar. "It was nice knowing you."

"_Did you call me fat?!_" Shawn demanded again, fists clenching at his sides. Adam rolled his eyes.

"I did. What are you gonna do about it?"

With a battle cry, Shawn grabbed Edge by the hair, pulling him up and out of the chair before slamming him hard onto the ground. Without giving him a chance to catch his breath, Shawn pounced on Edge, throwing lefts and rights as he straddled the younger man's waist.

"I'm. Not. Fat. You. Jerk!" Shawn was yelling, words accentuated by punches.

Some of the other guys began cheering the two on, while Hunter sat, shaking his head. Kane sighed and turned away from the battle, and 'Taker put his pillow over his head. Chris Jericho began cheering for Shawn very loudly...at least until Randy tried to shut him up by putting a pillow-case over his head, which inevitably lead to another fight. Beth started yelling at Santino to shut everyone up so that she could sleep, and the poor guy could only shake his head helplessly. Somehow, Cena, Victoria and Natalya were all asleep in the cacophony, their snores only adding to the noise.

"ALL OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Vince screamed from the front of the bus, cell phone all-but-crushed in his fist. He stood up and started to say more when, suddenly, the bus jerked to a complete stop, sending him stumbling forwards and everyone else tumbling back.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded, turning to the driver, who was shaking his head sadly.

"She's...dead," he said solemnly. "My bus...is dead..." he lowered his head on the steering wheel and began sobbing as Vince's eyes widened. He turned slowly to look at his employees...and every last one of them was giving him a death-glare.

Without a word, he ran off the bus, with several angry Superstars right behind him, clamoring for revenge.

* * *

"Alright, now that _that's_ settled," Vince announced between coughs, trying to straighten out his torn suit and disheveled hair. He looked like he had just stepped out of a dryer. "Let's take role, to make sure everyone's still here." He glanced down at his list. "Hunter?"

Triple H raised his hand comically. "Here, Teacher!"

Vince rolled his eyes."Shawn?"

"Right here!"

"Taker?" No answer. "Taker? Mark?"

"Open your damn eyes, old man, I'm right in front of you!"

"Kane?"

"Sadly, here."

"Beth?"

"Right here."

"Santino?"

"I am present, but I--"

"Edge?"

"Here...and going to kill Shawn Michaels for giving me a black eye!"

"That's nice," Vince continued. "Randy?"

"Here to stay."

"Jericho?"

"In the flesh."

"Maria?"

"Present!"

"Mickie?"

"As always."

"Natalya?"

"Right here...yeah baby."

"Victoria?"

"Always here, and ready."

"Cena?" Again, no answer. "Cena? Cena, where the hell are you?!"

"I'm up here," the World Heavyweight Champion called from his precarious perch in a tree. "And I think I see a big house not too far down the road!"

Vince nodded. "Excellent." He scanned the small crowd in front of him. "Now then, ladies and gentlemen, I want you all to be on your best behavior when we knock on this person's door. I hope that the owner will accept us into his home while we wait for the bus to be fixed, and I don't want him getting a bad impression of you idiots." His eyes narrowed. "Understand?"

Some nodded, some rolled their eyes, other snickered, but Vince took the sound and movement to be generally positive. So, with great reluctance, he led the group in the direction Cena had pointed. It wasn't long before they came upon what indeed was a very large mansion, surrounded on all sides by trees. It was very well hidden, and many of the Superstars stopped walking just to stare at the beauty of the place. There were flower gardens everywhere, and wide open space in the back. A huge water fountain sat in front of the mansion, which seemed more like a castle the closer they got to it.

Mr. McMahon slowly walked up to the stairs to the door and knocked briskly three times. He could hear some noise from behind the door, and, suddenly, it was opened by a very clean-shaven young man with long black hair and similarly dark eyes. He was dressed casually, but beautifully, with white lounge pants that were almost sheer in the light and a white, long-sleeve, button-down shirt made of the same material. His hair was neatly combed and held back with a white ribbon, a few stray stands framing his face, and his feet were wrapped in ancient Greek-style sandals that were also white.

He was quite literally breathtaking, and every eye that fell on him either immediately looked away or stayed fixed to his perfect form.

"May I...help you?" he asked with a slight accent, although his English was excellent.

Vince stared a moment longer before coughing once. "Um, yes...My name is Vince McMahon, and I was traveling with these fine men and women when our tour bus broke down...If you please, will you allow us to stay in your home until our only mode of transportation is repaired?"

"Since when did McMahon get so nice?" Orton asked with a roll of his eyes, earning a few snickers.

"Since he laid eyes on the most beautiful human male on Earth," Victoria whispered with a laugh.

The young man smiled brightly. "I would say yes, of course, but this isn't my house." He opened the old door wide. "However, I'm sure that my Mistress will be glad to receive you all into her home."

"Mistress?" Shawn whispered, looking over to Triple H, who shrugged. "That can't be good..."

"Please, come in, come in," the beautiful youth encouraged, taking Vince by the arm while motioning to the others. "My name is Andrei, and welcome to the Mansion!"

One by one, as the Superstars stepped inside, their jaws dropped to the floor and their eyes nearly fell out of their heads as they took in the sights around them.

The entire house seemed to be decorated in a very old, early Medieval style. And everywhere one turned, there was a handsome male sitting or standing, talking or laughing, or interacting with another beautiful male. From what they could see, the house was full of men, hundreds of them, some fully dressed, and others wearing precious little. It was like paradise...if heaven was full of beautiful men in various states of undress.

"I...I've died and gone to heaven..." Maria muttered before fainting into Natalya's arms, only to be promptly dropped on her ass as the 3rd generation Diva gawked along with everyone else.

"What the hell...is this place?" the Undertaker asked aloud, green eyes wide.

Andrei, who was walking a little ahead, turned to the group with a smile. "Oh, how rude of me, I should have been more specific in the beginning." He bowed formally, dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "Welcome, one and all, to the Playgirl Mansion!"

* * *

_Review? (laughs)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Two chapters in one night? Yay! XD _

_Oh, this chapter is dedicated to the ever-amazing _**WFSA**_! I thought of you guys when I was writing this last week. :)_

_Onto the story! I own nothing, but I wish I did, lol._

* * *

There was a long silence immediately after Andrei's proclamation. No one dared speak or move for a long moment until Mr. McMahon coughed.

"E-Excuse me?" Vince asked, jaw dropping even further. "Where..what...?"

"This is the Playgirl Mansion," Andrei repeated, saying each word carefully, wondering if he had mispronounced something. "And you're welcome to stay while you wait for your bus to be repaired. Please, make yourselves comfortable while we have your rooms prepared." As he was speaking a group of guys in speedos walked by.

"Coming to the pool, Andrei?" one of them, with long blond hair, asked.

"In a moment," the young host answered. "First I have to...take care of our new guests."

"Well, that's it, I'm outta here," 'Taker said quickly, turning on his heel and striding for the door. Vince rushed over to him and grabbed his arm before he could step outside, however.

"And just where do you think you'll go?" McMahon asked in a whisper. It wasn't a challenge, but an honest question. "Be reasonable, Mark, please. I know this is...odd...but it's the best we've got." He sighed deeply. "And if _you_ leave, a lot of the guys will follow you. You _know_ that."

'Taker snatched his arm away, face a picture of disgust. "Dammit, Vince, do you actually expect us to stay here? We could be here a whole week!"

"Or a single night," Vince countered. "C'mon, Mark, it's not _that_ bad."

Edge interjected himself into the conversation with a groan. "Not that bad? We're surrounded by a bunch of _men_—some half naked!"

"And how is that different from any other day?" Glen asked calmly, ever the voice of reason. "We're _wrestlers_, for God's sake, we're always surrounded by half naked men!"

As the group began arguing, Andrei's features dropped into a frown as a thought occurred to him, and then his eyes lit up with a bright smile as they widened.

"Oh my God, it _is_ Shawn Michaels!" he said loudly, in almost fan-boy fashion, walking over to HBK and grabbing him by the waist in a tight hug. "I _knew_ I recognized you! You were in one of the most popular editions of Playgirl _ever_!"

Shawn turned beet red as the other wrestlers began to laugh, especially Hunter. "Actually I--"

"Everyone, it's Shawn Michaels!" Andrei announced, beckoning for all of the other nearby models to take a look. "Isn't he beautiful?"

"Wow, just like in the pictures," one of the younger men—this one with short, brown hair and green eyes—said in a reverent voice. There were several murmurs of agreement.

"Look at that golden hair!"

"And those gorgeous blue eyes!"

"He's so fit..."

"The Mistress _loves_ you, Shawn!" Andrei continued, releasing Shawn's waist and taking his hand. "Oh, she'll be so excited to see you!" He clapped once, and, of all things, a golden _chariot_ was pulled right into the living room, drawn by two beautiful...women?

The male wrestlers in the room stopped laughing suddenly as their collective jaw dropped when they watched the Heartbreak Kid get treated like a king.

Shawn couldn't help but smile a little as he was led into the cart, as all the guys commented on his "timeless beauty" and "fathomless eyes." With a mischievous grin, he waved farewell to his co-workers as the cart was pulled off into another sector of the grand house.

"Well I'll be damned," Kane said, breaking the silence that had fallen on the group. After another moment, Hunter shook himself, brown eyes going wide.

"Hey, wait! I'm his best friend!" he called, taking off after the chariot. "I'm Triple H!"

Andrei, who was still standing with the Superstars, laughed heartily. "Well, those two are definitely welcome," he said softly before turning now to the Divas, all of whom seemed to be a bit overwhelmed by the display. "And we'd be honored if you ladies made _yourselves_ at home as well. There are very few women here at the Mansion, and I'm sure the boys would--"

"HELL YEAH!" As one, the Divas took off running, some jumping into the arms of the nearest non-wrestling male, and others grabbing two or three laughing cherubs and dragging them away. Vince shook his head—so much for their alleged "good image"—but then he reminded himself that the guys would probably do the same thing if they had broken down at the Playboy Mansion...

"So what are _we_ supposed to do?" Cena asked, scratching his head. "I don't know about the rest of you guys, but I don't feel comfortable surrounded by so many dudes."

Andrei nodded. "Understandably." He took a little bell out of his pocket, and shook it gently. Within a few seconds, several women—all dressed as maids—walked into the room.

"Ladies, please show these men to the guest rooms," he asked kindly before turning back to the group. "I assure you, the guest rooms are in the far left wing of the Mansion, and very separate from those who actually live here. If you have any problems, just ring one of the bells provided in the rooms, and one of these beautiful ladies will help you." He winked at the wrestlers, quite a few of whom had already started drooling. "But don't mess with them—if you piss them off, you may just find yourself falling off a tower...or, even worse, locked away in the dungeon." He nodded to the women, and then motioned for those who wanted to go to their rooms now to follow.

Vince watched most of his Superstars walk off, following the maids like love-sick puppies, until he was left standing with only Glen and Mark, both of whom were shaking their heads.

"What are you two waiting for?" McMahon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothin'. We're just going with you to talk to the owner of this place," 'Taker said with a wave of his hand.

"I don't need your supervision," Vince said somewhat irritably.

"Yes you do," Glen coughed before turning to Andrei. "If you please, Andrei, take us to your Mistress so that we can work out the details of our stay."

The beautiful young man nodded, and led the three large men through seemingly endless halls, and then up a large staircase. Glen would often comment on the architecture as they walked, while Mark would roll his eyes. Vince, however, seemed completely enthralled with the concept of the place. As far as he could tell, he was meeting with the female Hugh Hefner, and there was the potential for some serious money to be made...

Andrei stopped in front of a large, ornate door. "Here's the Mistress' room," he said in a low whisper before knocking on the door. "No one else is allowed up here except for me...and a few select others, of course."

"Why you?" Glen asked, suddenly curious.

"Because," the young model said with a proud smile. "I'm her boyfriend."

Mark couldn't hold back a short, derisive laugh. "Yeah, one boyfriend out of how many? 20? 30? 50?"

Andrei's dark eyes lost some of their humor. "That's not very nice," he said, still speaking softly. "And please don't say things like that to her, she'll become very upset. She is, first and foremost, a businesswoman, and she hates it when people assume that she's some sort of slut because she's in charge of this place." Turning from the trio, he knocked twice lightly on the door.

"Come in," a decidedly female voice called.

With a nod, Andrei opened the door, and held it open for Vince, Mark and Glen to walk into the large room. Instead of a brothel-ish looking bedroom, as they had expected, the three men were surprised to see what was more or less an office, with a glass desk by the large window facing out over the forest behind the Mansion.

At the desk sat a woman, dressed casually in a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a T-shirt that had a Playboy bunny symbol on the front. She looked up from her laptop, adjusting her glasses, and stood.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise!" she said happily. "First Shawn Michaels and Hunter, and now Mr. McMahon and the Brothers of Destruction." She nodded to Andrei as she walked over towards the much taller men, and watched as he obediently left the room and closed the door after him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked, as she firmly shook hands with Vince, and then Mark and Glen.

"Nothing in particular," Vince answered, surprised at how very strange this woman was. She wasn't classically beautiful at all...but she had a certain charm about her...He had expected some trashy looking woman, but instead, he was standing with a female who looked like someone he could have passed a million times on the street and never noticed. "We just...our bus broke down a ways back, and we would appreciate it if we could stay here for a bit. While it gets fixed."

The woman nodded. "Oh, it would be my pleasure," she said with a toss of her dark hair, which was hanging in a loose ponytail tied at the base of her neck. "I'm sure that Andrei and the boys have showed you to your rooms..."

"Oh yes, they were most kind." Mr. McMahon took a moment to laugh. "In fact, I think they made my guys feel pretty comfortable, which is an amazing feat. Well, the women did at least."

"Ah, well, that's what the Maid's are here for—to help me out and to help my Bunnies get used to being around mostly men."

"Bunnies?" 'Taker asked before he could stop himself.

The woman chuckled, dark eyes glittering. "Yes, _my_ Bunnies." She motioned to a group of chairs and bid them all sit down as she requested coffee and tea from one of the Maids. "You see, I recently became the owner of the Playgirl Corporation...The magazine wasn't selling very well, and they needed new management. It had become a bit of a novelty, and, to be blunt, a little trashy. I wanted it to have more class, more style, more intrigue than 'just a bunch of naked guys.' So, I got together with the pro at these sort of things, and we worked out a _very_ nice idea."

"You made a deal with _Hugh Hefner_?" Vince asked, his respect for this woman growing by the second. He could see the terrible comment on Mark's lips and gave him a death glare before he could utter it. "What did you decide on?"

"I did. First he told me that I should make a Mansion for the male models, and then start calling them Bunnies. He said that it was all a part of the 'image,' and he was exactly right. Once the mystique grew, readership went up. The magazine was the same in function, but very different in form. And also, I decided to have more input from the readers as well. If they responded particularly well to a certain Bunny, he had a better chance at being the centerfold for the next month's issue. Also, if they had a friend or lover they thought would make a good Bunny, I opted to have them send in a picture of him. If the committee and I approved, he was brought in as a Bunny. And, of course, men could nominate themselves.

"Soon, we were getting _hundreds_ of calls a day from men who wanted to move into the Mythical Mansion and become permanent models and even more calls from women who wanted to spend a night at the Mansion, _especially_ when they saw who would be here." She chuckled. "Also, I was suddenly the envy of all the females, which, of course, created even more mystique...The revenue has been great, so far." She paused as the Maid set down their drinks, taking a small sip of her green tea.

"Actually, Hef gave me a lot of great ideas. And his Bunnies were really into my Bunnies...so, we made a few business deals. I can now legally use the name "Bunnies" for my boys and also the Bunny symbol, to represent my models. He was very open to the idea, and thought that our magazines would go well together." She chuckled. "He's actually a very kind, feisty old guy."

"I'm sure he is," Mark muttered, and Glen nudged him hard in the side.

"So, any questions?" she asked after a short silence in which everyone sipped at their drinks.

"Yeah, what's your name?" Glen asked suddenly, blushing as he lifted his mug to his lips.

The woman smiled. "Cynthia," she said simply. "Just an everyday-girl's name."

Vince leaned forwards. "So...You seem to be a smart businesswoman," he said, glad to see her approving nod. "Would you like to talk business some time?"

Cynthia nodded. "I think that would be an excellent idea, actually." She turned her full gaze on Mark, who actually _felt_ it, and stiffened.

"The Undertaker," she mused, dark eyes narrowing. "The Deadman. Very tall...in excellent physical condition...green eyes to die for..." A slow smile crossed her face. "With all due respect, I think you'd make a _fantastic_ Bunny, Sir."

'Taker started choking on his coffee as Glen began to laugh his ass off next to him. Cynthia shook her head, though.

"You'd make a good Bunny too, Kane," she said with a nod. "You seem to have a certain allure about you...like, crazy-sexy. Your skin looks smooth to the touch, as do your lips. Also in great physical condition, and a body made for...well, we'll let the readers fill in that blank. And your smile is _really_ cute too." He started to turn beet red as the woman across from him looked him over.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked, a shocked expression on his face. Mark was still choking.

"Not at all," she answered seriously before turning to Vince.

"Mr. McMahon, I think a lot of your boys would make excellent Bunnies." She sat back in her chair and smiled. "I'll tell you what: I'll let you and as many wrestlers as you've brought to stay here as long as you like, with no charge, if they let me do a few photo shoots with them." She nodded towards Taker and Kane. "I'm sure there are women—and some men—all over the world who would kill to see their favorite Superstars in my Magazine. What do you say? I'll even finance the repair of your tour bus _and_ give you 10 percent of the profit I make from the issue with your boys in it..."

Vince looked over at the two blushing brothers, both of whom were shaking their heads with frowns, mouthing the word, "NO!" over and over again.

"It's a deal!" Mr. McMahon said happily, standing up, along with Cynthia, and they shook hands briefly. "Thank you so very much Ms..."

"Snow," Cynthia said with a laugh as she made her way over to her desk. "But, please, just call me Cynthia." She sat down and took out a very archaic looking pen and began writing on a blank sheet of paper. "Now, then, Mr. McMahon, I'm just writing up the details of the contract...which I'll ask you to sign of course once we've agreed upon the terms..."

"Please, call me Vince."

"He can't do that to us, can he?!" 'Taker asked, turning to Kane, who was just a red as he was. "He can't just sell us out like that!"

"I...I don't know what to say..." the Big Red Machine said, occasionally blinking. "I mean..._I_ wouldn't consider me to be Bunny material..."

'Taker gave his younger brother an odd look, and started to say something when the door burst open loudly.

"I'm a Bunny!" Shawn Michaels said happily, literally hopping into the room. He was dressed in a pair of black leather pants with a green stripe going down the legs. He had no shirt, but his arms were adorned with black gauntlets, also made of leather, and his feet with simple black boots. And, of course, on his head were the signature Bunny ears, and right on his butt, a cute, white cotton Bunny tail.

Right behind him, Hunter walked into the room, dressed almost identically, although he was allowed a black leather vest, and a green X was spray painted on the back of his leather pants, of course with the Bunny tail in the center of the X and a pair of white-and-green ears on his head.

Cynthia stood up and smiled at the two men approvingly, hugging Shawn first, and then Hunter. "Oh, you two look great! DX Bunnies!" she laughed, running a hand through Shawn's golden locks. "You're as beautiful as when you first posed for us..."

Shawn blushed a little, but had to admit to himself that it felt good to be getting complimented left and right. He could get used to a place like this!

"And you too, Hunter," Cynthia said with a wink. "I didn't know if you could pull of the Bunny ears, but they work surprisingly well." She walked over to him with a grin. "And look at this cute little tail..." She poked it once, before pausing, letting her hand graze over the Game's ass, and felt him stiffen. "You two look so cute!"

"I _know_!" Shawn said happily, taking Hunter's hand, who was still blushing furiously from the brief touch. "C'mon, Hunt, let's show the other guys!" Still hopping, he all but dragged Triple H out of the room, humming joyfully. Cynthia watched them go with a bright smile before turning to the Brothers of Destruction.

"I think you two will enjoy yourselves," she said with a mysterious chuckle. "That is, if you let yourselves enjoy yourselves." With that said, she rang one of the bells, and when the Maid appeared, she asked her to take 'Taker and Kane to the guest wing.

"So, Mr, McMahon..." she began, offering him a seat across from her at the desk. "The details of this contract..."

* * *

_Review?_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hee hee, told y'all I haven't forgotten about this story. XD It's just that Shawn and Taker have been...driving me insane... But, I've managed to strike a deal with them._

_ShawnMuse: It wasn't a bad deal, either._

_See, Shawn approves. (laughs) TakerMuse isn't too pleased, but that's the price he has to pay for planning to take over my brain with ShawnMuse!_

_Heh, onto the story!_

* * *

"I'm tellin' ya, she's like, the most normal person you'll ever meet!" Glen insisted to the group of wrestlers standing around him in a circle. They had all slept fairly well the past night, and had been allowed to sleep well into the next day, a luxury they almost never had. Now, however, all of the guys were wide awake and curious about what the "female Hugh Hefner" was like. There has been many ideas floating around, ranging from an Amazon Warrior to a Drag Queen, and Kane had listened to it all, shaking his head, until he took it upon himself to set the record straight.

"She's like, 5 foot 5 with shoulder length black hair...She looks kinda young to be running a business, actually..." Glen scratched his chin. "But I'm sure she's at least in her 30's, from the way she was speaking, actually."

"So...she's not...a drag queen...or a hoe or anything?" Cena asked in a whisper, only to be smacked in the back of the head by Jericho.

"You have no class whatsoever," Y2J muttered before turning back to the Big Red Machine. "Please, Kane, continue."

Glen shook his head. "Thanks Chris. But to answer John's question, she's not slutty at all...She was seriously just a most normal, average person. Seemed like a nice woman, actually. "

Mark, even though he himself had seen her and had spoken with her, was still a bit skeptical. "If she's _not_ a slut, then what happened to Vince, Shawn _and_ Hunter? Not a single one of them slept in the guest rooms last night." A small smile came to his lips as he saw the eyes of everyone around him widen. "In fact, I haven't seen them since she had them dressed in those ridiculous rabbit costumes."

Now _that _ got the guys whispering again, and several theories were put forth about the missing men were. Again, the thoughts in the room varied, and ranged from an elaborate kidnapping/murder plot to a very graphically described orgy.

"No, Shawn would _never_ cheat on his wife," Chris said confidently. "We all know him...He wouldn't do something like that."

"Neither would Paul," Randy added, but Adam shook his head,

"Paul wouldn't...unless _Vince_ approved. Then it would be okay, now wouldn't it?"

Cena scratched his beardless chin. "Still doesn't explain where they were last night..."

Santino tapped his finger on a nearby glass window to get everyone's attention, waiting until the debating died down a bit before finally speaking. "Hey! Instead of standing around here like a bunch of the, how do you say, i-di-ots, why don't we just...go see it for ourselves?" He threw his head back and laughed dramatically while everyone else in the room gave him an odd look, not really comprehending, and not really caring all that much.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Andrei walked in, smiling as always. "Oh, good, you're all awake. Please, feel free to join us downstairs for brunch whenever you'd like." With a short bow, he turned to leave, but stopped when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Hey, wait a minute," Edge asked, the only one who had thought to ask someone who would know. "Do you know where our friends are? Vince? And Shawn? And Triple H?"

Andrei scratched his chin. "I'm not sure," he said after a moment. "Shawn went to go hang out with the other Bunnies, and took Hunter with him...I have no idea where Mr. McMahon went, though. Perhaps my Mistress gave him a more private room?"

"Yeah, hers," Mark muttered, and gave a short cry of pain when he felt Glen's elbow slam into his side.

"Stop being an ass," Kane hissed. "You're not even giving her a chance!"

"Why the hell are you defending her?" Taker hissed in return. "Have you fallen for her already because she told you that you didn't look half bad? I didn't know you were that easy, Bro."

Glen growled and started to reply, but decided against it at the last moment when he saw everyone else filing out of the room after Andrei. After all, it would be the height of rudeness to shed blood in your host's house.

'I'll get him later,' Glen thought to himself, tight frown becoming replaced by a small grin, which in turn caused Mark's sneer to fade.

'Ah, hell, he's planning something,' the Deadman thought with sigh. 'As if he could possibly make things any worse.'

* * *

After several minutes of debate in the overly large private dining room, the guys settled following Santino's advice, and splitting up to find their missing comrades. Mark and Glen chose to go together alone, and no one raised any objections; Cena and Santino decided that they would make a good team, which left Randy, Edge and Jericho together, and together, the three of them decided (once everyone else had left) that their time would be _much_ better spent looking for those hot Maids rather than looking for their co-workers.

* * *

"Mark, you look uncomfortable," Glen teased as he and his older brother walked down the seemingly endless halls of the Mansion.

"I _am_ uncomfortable," the Deadman answered with a growl, raising an eyebrow at the Big Red Machine. "As I imagine any sane man would be while more or less trapped in a house filled with a bunch of other men."

Glen threw back his head a laughed. "Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad. None of the guys are even giving us a second glance...The only thing odd about us is probably how over-dressed we are."

'Taker rolled his eyes, and folded his arms. "You know, I wonder about you sometimes...Here we are, wasting one of our very few vacations in this ridiculous 'Playboy Mansion,' and you're making jokes. I swear, sometimes you're worse than Shawn and Hunter."

"Ouch," Kane with no little bit of sarcasm. "Look, Bro, stop being such a grouch. Sure, we all want to go home and be with the ones we love, but this is where we are now, and we might as well make the best of it, dammit!" His walking pace slowed until he came to a complete stop, and with a sigh, he leaned against the railing of a large, ornate staircase. "And besides..."

"What are you thinking?" 'Taker asked carefully, turning to look at his younger brother, whose face was beginning to color. "You have a dopey look in your eyes..."

"Well I..." The light red hue of his face deepened into a full blush. "It's just...I've never actually done a photo shoot before—at least, not one that wasn't supposed to make me look terrifying—and when she suggested that we..." He turned another shade of red and looked away from the Undertaker's shocked face. "I don't know, I just think it could be...kinda nice."

Mark shook his head. "Glen, you've lost your damn--"

"Oh, good afternoon," a voice called from the top of the staircase, and the two wrestlers turned around in unison.

Cynthia was standing there, or, rather, walking quickly down the steps, her dark hair flowing freely behind her with an almost unnatural luster. She was dressed in a long black ball-gown of sorts, with long flowing bell sleeves, and a hem that brushed the ground, hiding her feet. There was even a blood-red train attached to the back, matching her red Playboy/Playgirl Bunny necklace perfectly as it rested between the barest bit of visible cleavage.

"I hope you enjoyed brunch," she said somewhat breathlessly as she swept by them in a flurry of motion, the soles of her flat shoes clicking off the marble floor. "I'm sorry I don't have much time to chat...I have a short press date in a few minutes..."

Mark and Glen watched her go a few more hurried steps before Mark nudged his brother in the side.

"Hey, ask her about the others," he whispered, and Glen nodded slowly.

"Cynthia...you...You look great," the Big Red Machine called to the woman in a dazed voice, causing Cynthia to freeze in her tracks and Mark to groan loudly.

"Why, thank you," she said sheepishly, turning to them with a bright smile. "I don't like to dress like this, usually, but, you know, I have to keep up the image and all that, especially when the bloody paparazzi are around. Damned vultures are always after a story."

"You're telling me," 'Taker said, a reluctant smile on his lips. "The bastards would probably even kidnap some of us if it wasn't illegal."

Kane smacked himself in the head. "Oh, and speaking of kidnapping...have you seen Shawn, Hunter and Vince?"

Cynthia stared at him for a long moment, a completely blank look on her face, before bursting into laughter. "That was hilarious!" she choked out between gasps. "Ah, but it's brilliant! Kidnapping a bunch of wrestlers!" She leaned against a large column for support as she guffawed, wiping the tears from her eyes. When at last the laughing fit subsided, she sighed quietly.

"Thanks so much for the laugh, guys," she said sincerely. "I didn't have the best morning, and this afternoon wasn't looking to be much better..." Suddenly, a cell phone tucked away in a hidden fold of her dress began to ring. Cynthia excused herself and answered it.

"Yes...yes...Ok, so you're all in the Main Hallway? Fantastic, give me two minutes and I'll be there. Of course. Yes, I know. Alright, thanks, Babes. Bye." She flipped the small contraption shut. "Well, I'm off to meet the guys...The cameras are already out the door, and I'll be damned if I actually let them in my house." She gave the two brothers a short bow, turning to leave and taking several fast steps before stopping again.

"Actually...I'd be honored if you two would join me..." she said in a soft voice. "Not as part of my entourage, of course, but if you'd like to watch the proceedings from the sidelines, or something..."

"Why would you want us with you?" Glen asked, legitimately surprised. "We're not the best looking guys visiting here, you know."

"Speak for yourself," Mark muttered, drawing another chuckle from Cynthia.

"It has nothing to do with your attractiveness," she explained slowly, as if explaining it to herself as well. "I just...Maybe if I had someone other than a Bunny vouching for me, the people will know that I'm really not that bad a girl."

Kane looked over at the Undertaker, who had a very contemplative look on his face.

"Sure," the Deadman said after a moment. "We'll come with you, just hide us in the back, or something."

Cynthia's dark eyes brightened. "Thank you. I really do appreciate it." She beckoned to the brothers with one hand. "Let's go meet the other guys."

* * *

When the trio reached the edge of the hallway, six handsome men dressed in fine-cut tuxedos were there to greet them.

'Sorry I'm late," Cynthia said hastily, running a hand through her hair in an attempt to tame it. "The hair dresser took _forever_ and I almost had to threaten to kill...Oh, let me introduce you to my guests for a few days." She gestured towards Mark and Glen. "These two men are professional wrestlers known as the Undertaker and Kane. They'll hopefully be posing for us soon."

"Ah, that explains why Shawn Michaels is here," one of the men with waist-length blond hair said with a laugh. "I'm Luke, and it's a pleasure to meet you both." He shook hands firmly with the Brothers of Destruction, and briefly introduced the other five men. He then turned to Cynthia, a smile on his lips. "Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm. With a smile in return, the woman took his arm, and the arm of the man nearest her other side, and they, in turn, took another man's arm.

"I'm supposed to be like Hef," she explained to Mark and Glen, who were watching the proceedings with confused expressions. "Three guys on each arm, frequent kisses, and all that silliness."

"She pretends not to enjoy it, but I think she does," another man, Michael, this one with dark blue eyes said with a wink, kissing Cynthia on the cheek. A Maid opened the front door, and the group stepped outside, immediately met with several camera flashes.

Taker and Kane watched the scene unfolded from just inside the Mansion, and, to their surprise, they were completely ignored by the paparazzi.

"They're too focused on her," 'Taker said with a lift of his hand, pointing to Cynthia's profile just outside. She was no longer smiling and had a very neutral expression as she was bombarded with questions and pictures were taken of her from every possible angle. She did smile, however, when one of the guys in her entourage tripped a reporter, causing him to fall flat on his face.

"Some of those questions are really brutal," Kane noted, sitting on the edge of a window sill. "'Who did you sleep with to get control of this company?' 'Are you ashamed of yourself?' 'Do you sleep with all of your Bunnies?' 'Any STDs?' That's just sick."

"Yeah, and she has to answer them all the time," Hunter said as he appeared in the Main Hall with Shawn at his side. They were both dressed normally again. "She was telling us yesterday that she makes a point to try to get the word out that her company isn't just some...house of sin, but no one really wants to listen."

Shawn shook his head. "It's really a shame, because she's a nice woman..."

"Where were you two last night?" Mark asked, looking over two men briefly, who seemed well-rested and..._different_ somehow.

"Getting an all-night spa treatment," the Heartbreak Kid said with a laugh. "I had to drag Hunter, but once he was there, he really enjoyed it. Did you know she has a full spa and gym right here in the Mansion? It's great, and there's a pool, and a sauna, and a--"

"All night spa treatment?" Glen asked, voice a bit skeptical. "I can't image you consenting to that," he said to Hunter, who shook his head.

"I didn't at first...Shawn dragged me there by the ears." He smiled reluctantly. "But once I hit that hot water...I'm telling you, it feels so good on the muscles and joints...and then the massage...I slept like a baby afterwards, and when I woke up, I felt great."

Shawn nodded in agreement. "Me too. I had forgotten how nice it is to be treated like a supermodel." He laughed. "Actually, now that I think about it, you two should head over there. The mineral baths do wonders for old injuries..."

Glen scratched his chin. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea at all...I could use a nice soak, and it's not like we have anything else planned for today. What do you think, Bro?" he asked, turning to 'Taker. To his surprise, he received no response. "Mark?" He walked over to the older man, and saw that he was still gazing out the window, watching Cynthia and the reporters intently.

"What's got your attention so completely?" Glen asked, following his brother's gaze.

"I thought she was going to punch the hell out of one of those damned reporters for a minute," Mark explained, green eyes narrowing. "He 'thanked' her for taking the time out of her busy schedule of screwing guys to answer their questions. Asshole."

Kane smiled to himself, but said nothing, and instead simply told Shawn and Hunter that he and 'Taker would meet them down at the spa later, once Cynthia had returned inside.

* * *

_Review?_

_Next chapter up...tonight! Lol!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Obligatory slashy chapter number one! XD_

* * *

"That feels so good!" Hunter sighed loudly as he sank up to his neck into a small pool of steaming hot water. "A guy could get used to a place like this!"

"I hate to agree with you," Glen said with a sigh of his own as he let the water come up to his chin. "But you're absolutely right. This place is heaven... I've done nothing but sleep, ogle the pretty maid and get pampered all day!"

The Game nodded with a smile, eyes closed as he leaned back against a towel at the edge of the hot tub. "Same here..." He blinked once and sat up slightly. "Although, speaking of pretty maids...where did Shawn and Mark go?"

Kane sat up as well and looked around briefly. "I don't know...I know they came into the spa area with us..."

Hunter smiled wickedly. "Now what could those two _possibly_ be doing alone together, I wonder..."

"Alone, and wearing only towels," Glen added with a smirk, scratching his chin innocently. "I wonder what they could possibly be doing with one another..."

"Or _to_ one another," Triple H muttered, snickering once before bursting into laughter. It wasn't long, then, before Kane joined in, the two of them having a good chuckle at the expense of their friends.

* * *

"So, how do you like it?" Shawn asked with a smile as he lay on the white mat, looking over at Mark, who was getting a back massage from one of the Maids trained in physical therapy.

"It's...alright," 'Taker answered, stubbornly refusing to admit that he was starting to enjoy getting pampered. From the moment he had walked into the spa area, the women had done everything short of carrying him around to make sure that he was comfortable. Now, lying on a mat and content, he couldn't deny that he was enjoying himself...

Shawn chuckled, still staring at the Undertaker, trying to imagine what the big man's photo shoot would end up looking like.

'No doubt, he'll fight it tooth and claw until the end,' the Heartbreak Kid reasoned, sighing. 'poor Cynthia...he's going to give her such a hard time...Unless, I can soften him up a little first...'

With a wicked grin, Shawn climbed off the cot he had been lying on a whispered something into the Maid's ear. Her eyes grew wide for a moment, before a large smile crossed her face.

"Of course, Mr. Michaels," she said sweetly before vanishing into the mist that rose from the nearby baths.

'Taker groaned when the lovely pressure on his muscles suddenly disappeared, and then gasped in surprise when he felt a completely different set of hands begin to caress his back and shoulders.

"What the hell...?" he wondered aloud, opening his eyes and seeing Shawn standing over him, an all-too-familiar smirk on his face. "Michaels, what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Shawn laughed. "Well, you see, who knows better than a wrestler how to treat a wrestler's injuries?" he asked cryptically. "Unlike that kind woman, I can see spots of tension that no one else would notice...because I have them myself." He poked a spot on the Deadman's shoulder lightly. "See, right there—Any normal person would mistake that for a muscle, but _I_ know that it's a little knot of stress. Hmmm...What are you stressed about, Mark?"

"You. Touching me," 'Taker mumbled, closing his eyes and lying back down. "Now go away, I was starting to relax." He inhaled deeply, feeling Shawn's hands leave his back, almost ready to relax again, when all of his breath left him in a whoosh as Shawn Michaels jumped onto his back, knocking the wind out of him.

"Dammit, Michaels! Get off!"

Shawn laughed wicked. "You'll have to make me!"

* * *

Hunter and Glen—whom had, by this time crept up to the door of the massage parlor—listened to the conversation inside with wide eyes. The slightly more mischievous of the two, Hunter opened the door a crack and peeked inside, barely able to hold in his laughter as he back away.

"What did you see?" Kane asked, squinting through the crack himself.

"Shawn and your big brother wrestling on the floor...in towels!" Triple H rolled around laughing for a few moments before a thought occurred to him. "Hey, do you have a--"

"Camera?" Glen asked, showing off the sleek device with a wicked grin. "Already recording, man."

"Excellent. Those two are _so_ our slaves forever. Well...maybe not Shawn. I don't think he'd care all that much about a vid of him tussling with the Undertaker almost naked."

Kane scratched his chin. "Most likely. But the Deadman won't stand for it. He'll be our bitch for life."

Hunter began to laugh again. "Judging by this fight, I'd say he's already Shawn's bitch! Look!"

The two men peeked together through the door again, just in time to see Shawn threatening to snatched the Undertaker's towel off.

"This. Is. Gold," Glen whispered to himself as he continued to record. "I'm sure Cynthia will be particularly pleased..."

Hunter gave the Big Red Machine a sidelong glance and shook his head. "Dude, do you have a crush on her or something? She's like, half your age."

Kane smacked the Game in the back of the head, causing the blond to cringe and sink down to the floor, holding his abused cranium. "Idiot! Of course not! I'm a married man!" A light blush crossed his face. "And, besides all of that...I'm not _that_ old, you know..."

Triple H snickered, still wincing. "Glen and Cynthia sitting in a tree," he sang, smile widening. "F-U-C-"

"Dammit, Helmsley!" Glen roared, pouncing on the slightly smaller man and beginning a brawl that, ironically, mirrored the one going on just inside the massage parlor.

* * *

_Well, that was fun. XD Oh, and next chapter...meet the WSFA! XD_

_Review?_


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